Viva El Chacorro! Long Live The Cub!
by PrattlingPrincess
Summary: Take a sixty year long conflict in Colombia. Add Alex Rider. Sprinkle in four carefully chosen SAS opperatives. Then pour in a two week trek through the Colombian jungle, and a mission that's sure to fail. Mix violently. Please drink responsibly.
1. Briefing

"In 1948, Jorge Eliécer Gaitán, chief of the Colombian Liberal Party, was assassinated. The country erupted, and the result was the _Bogotazo_, an urban riot that led to over 4,000 deaths. This, in turn, led to _La Violencia_, a ten year conflict between the Colombian Liberal Party and the Colombian Conservative Party that resulted in over 200,000 deaths.

The Colombian Conservative Party won, but not really. Though they were technically in power, there were so many people who had supported the Liberal Party, and still remembered the atrocities committed during _La Violencia_, that the conflict never actually ended.

These groups of angry and beaten liberals formed guerilla units, most famously the "_Fuerzas Armadas Revolucionarias de Colombia_" (Revolutionary Armed Forces of Colombia), or FARC. These guerillas hid in the mountains, causing as much damage as they could on limited financial and political support.

In the 1960s, the guerilla units were inspired and encouraged by news of the Cuban revolution. At this time, the liberal and communist guerillas united and regrouped, forming a complete communist insurgency. The main groups were the re-born FARC, and the newly created ELN.

At this point, the government began to actively oppose the guerillas, aided by CIA. The US government sent the soon-to-be infamous hunter-killer groups, which had just returned from the Philippine campaign against the Huks, and would later participte in the Pheonix Program in Vietnam

At the same time, civic action programs, based on John F Kennedy's "Alliance for Progress" worked to develop some of the areas hardest hit by La Violencia in an attempt to destroy public support of the guerilla units.

The results of these campaigns were mixed. In some areas, guerilla action died down due to the improved economy. In others, the psychological traumas induced by the violence committed by the US hunter-killer groups overshadowed any civic action groups.

In the 1970s, the FARC and ELN died down, and were quickly replaced by the M-19, a mostly urban guerilla group that had quickly gained the fame and sympathy that had so often eluded the FARC and the ELN. Of course, this meant that all of the governments anti-insurgency efforts were fixed on the M-19, leaving the FARC and the ELN to regroup in peace.

In 1984, truces and cease-fires were made with the FARC and M-19. The ELN refused to enter negotiations, and continued to recover through threatening and extorting US and European oil companies.

It was at this time that the illegal drug trade in Colombia boomed, and guerilla leaders started moonlighting as drug lords. Although the _Muerte a Secuestradores_ (MAS) death squad ("Death to Kidnappers") was formed in 1981, the government didn't actively oppose the drug lords until the American Justice Minister Rodrigo Lara Bonilla was assassinated in 1984.

The M-19 broke their truce in 1985.

The 1990s began with a chaotic campaign of terrorism and murder, led by the drug lords, in response to the government's movement to extradite them overseas. The truce with the FARC eventually collapsed, and the conflict continued.

The next decade bore witness to a conflict so complicated, and so unheard of, that hardly anybody is able to keep it straight. Countless murders were committed on both sides, and Colombians that were "disappeared" made up for two thirds of the entire planet's kidnappings.

Today the conflict is still going on. Recently, the FARC kidnapped 56 hostages, including one French politician, and three American contractors. In an attempt to convince the guerillas to release the hostages, the Colombian president, Alvaro Uribe, released 150 guerilla prisoners.

The FARC are ignoring them."

* * *

Seven hours after Alan Blunt's midnight briefing, the five British operatives found themselves on Flight 304 (British Airways) out of Heathrow, to El Dorodo International, Bogota, via Miami.

The plane was scheduled to depart at 7:25, a.m., and to arrive twelve hourse and fifty-five minutes later, at 2:20 p.m.

The operation was as simple as the problem that created the need for it. The five operatives were to arrive in Colombia, posing as tourists. They were to travel to a popular tourist site, the Cidudad Perdida, a centuries-old ruin in the middle of the jungles surrounding the Sierra Nevada de Santa Marta (the mountains that housed the FARC headquarters). They were to mysteriously disappear when they reached the ruins.

Their murders were to be faked.

Then they were to continue on the six day hike to the FARC base, and give the military its coordinates so that the hostages could be successfully rescued.

Four of the operatives were fully trained members of the SAS.

The fifth was a fifteen year old spy who should have been in school.

But, you know, Geometry test…. Colombian hostage situation….

Alex Rider knew which one came first.

* * *

**A/N** So, I really did my research for this one. For the record, all the stuff in Blunt's briefing about the Colombian Armed Conflict are true (thanks to wikipedia and google news). Also, flight 304 is real, as are the arrival and departure times. And the Ciudad Perdida is a real place, although I haven't heard that it was anything in common with the conflict. Oh, and nobody (except the guerillas themselves) know where the FARC headquarters are. All we know is that it's they're in the mountains of Colombia.

And I know that the whole briefing thing was pretty boring, but I strongly feel that you have to at least try to understand a conflict before you can try to resolve it. Plus, it will all come back later in the story, so you have to know it now to get it later.

**Disclaimer**: If I owned Alex Rider, would I be posting this story here? I think not.


	2. Goodbyes

**Disclaimer:** Still posting this here, so I still don't own Alex Rider. Or Wolf. Or Snake. Or Eagle. Or Fox. Or Jack. Or MI6 (although that must be an interesting investment).

* * *

Poor Jack had been nearly hysterical when Alex returned home at four in the morning (after leaving at eleven thirty without an explanation) to tell her that he was going on a mission to Colombia.

The situation was made increasingly awkward by the fact that his sometimes-unit was still tagging along.

Although Alex did get a chance to run upstairs and pack a few things when Snake tried to pry the sobbing housekeep off of Cub, and she ended up latched on to him, crying onto his shoulder.

To the man's credit, he took it pretty well.

* * *

Upstairs in his room, Alex allowed himself a moment to pause and try to start absorbing what was happening.

Not that MI6's missions ever came with fair notice, but a midnight trip to a Colombian conflict zone? This was a little much, even for MI6.A

He'd had plans to go to the movies with Tom the next afternoon. Hopefully Jack would remember to call and cancel for him, so that poor Tom didn't panic.

Although, by now, he had to be used to Alex disappearing.

Alex couldn't help but think that he may be _really_ disappearing this time, too. Plenty of people disappeared in Colombia, and most of them had nothing to do with the FARC.

Alex was walking right into the middle of it.

And even though he would rather be bitten by every mosquito in the Colombian jungle that he was about to find himself hiking through, the only reason he wasn't panicking was the fact that Wolf, Eagle, Snake, and Fox were going to be with him.

Of course, the gadgets that Smithers had given him were helping a bit also.

This time Alex had been presented with a innocent-looking compass (which didn't actually work) that doubled as a GPS tracking system, which would send their coordinates to MI6. This was the key to their whole mission. When they found the FARC base, Alex was supposed to open the compass, and spin the dial like a combination lock. The code was N, then counter-clockwise to WNW, then clockwise to SSE, then counter-clockwise to E, then clockwise to WSW.

He also received two cans of bug spray. One was simple, if not unusually strong, bug spray. The other changed depending on how you bent the nozzle. If you twisted it to the right, it was tear gas. If you bent the nozzle back, then pushed it in, it was a stun grenade with a fifteen second fuse.

The SAS operatives all had similar gadgets. They'd also received an ingenious box that, when sent through airport security would appear to hold cameras. Even on the x-ray machines. But, it was in fact holding the soldiers's guns.

As usual, Alex wasn't getting a gun.

And all five operatives had received travel clothes. All bullet-proof, thankfully. Smithers and his underlings had worked hard to make clothes that were military grade (aka combat worthy) without making the users look like soldiers.

Now all Alex had to do was throw a bag together with things to do on the twelve hour flight. Of course, he planned on sleeping through the whole things, but there were a few objects he wanted to bring with him.

Mostly, though, he'd just wanted a few minutes alone before they left. Honestly, SAS operatives or not, Colombian guerillas were serious shit, and Alex was planning on being incredibly stressed and on edge for the next two weeks.

And after that he was almost sure he'd be dead.

* * *

Downstairs, Cub's housekeeper was still sobbing all over Snake. He awkwardly patted her shoulder, but none of the four soldiers tried to calm her down.

In fact, nobody said a word until Jack started talking between sobs.

"He's a _**(SOB)**_ good kid" she managed to get out.

The four men looked at each other, varying levels of guild showing on each face.

"The only_** (SNIFF)**_ thing he did _**(SOB)**_ wrong was to be so _damn_ _**(SOB)**_ good at this._** (SNIFF)**_ And how does _flipping_ MI6 _**(SOB)**_ repay him? _**(SOB)**_ They send him to his _**(SNIFF)**_ his _**(SOB)**_ death _**(SOB)**_ in stinking _Colombia_!" Jack took a deep breath and pulled away from Snake.

For a minute the men relaxed, until they realized that Jack had stopped crying, and was now screaming.

"He doesn't deserve it! I - I don't know what exactly Ian intended when he taught him all this, but I can't believe that this is ever what he wanted! Alex is fifteen years old! _Fifteen!_ He should be flirting with girls and doing homework, not spending two weeks in the jungle, fighting guerillas! He doesn't deserve it!" she shrieked.

Eagle tried to quiet her. "He's serving his country, Miss," he said, rather lamely. "He's saving lives"

"_How many fifteen year olds do you know who've been shot in the chest?!?!_ And why did MI6 use him in the first place? There are tons of British spies who sign up for this! Alex wanted nothing to do with it! They had to blackmail him to get him to agree!"

"They - they blackmailed him?" Fox asked, a little uncertainly.

"Yes! They told him that if he didn't agree to go on their stupid missions, they'd send me back to the states! He's doing it to protect _me_! That means that if he dies, it'll be all my fault! He's such a good kid, _he doesn't deserve it_!" Jack collapsed onto a chair, sobbing again.

There was silence for a minute, and then Wolf stepped forward.

"Look, miss-" he started.

"Jack. _**(SNIFF)**_ my name is Jack"

"Listen to me, Jack." Wolf ordered quietly.

Unable to help it, Jack looked up, tears streaming down her face.

"Nothing is going to happen to Alex." he said firmly.

"_**(SNIFF)**_ How do you know?" she asked softly.

"_Because_ _I said so_." He said slowly, "I promise you, we won't let anything happen to him."

And, unbelievably, Jack slowly nodded her head. "Okay."

"Cub, you ready?" Snake asked suddenly.

Alex was standing on the stairs, and came down into the foyer. "Yeah," he said quietly. "I'm ready."


	3. Flying

Disclaimer: I don't own Alex Rider. Or the rest of them. So there.

* * *

It was a twelve hour flight to Colombia from London. First was a nine hour flight from Heathrow to Miami, where they'd switch planes and continue for three hours to El Dorodo in Bogota. 

In terms of seating, they had three seats together in he middle, and then two seats together on the side. Without even discussing it, Wolf, Eagle, and Snake took the three middles. Alex took the window seat, and Fox too, the seat next to him.

Alex sat down, buckled in his seat belt according the flight attendant's instructions, and was asleep before the plane took off.

When he woke up five hours later, Snake was sitting next to him, and Fox had taken his spot.

He gave the soldier a sleepy hello, pulled out his ipod, and spent the next two hours spacing out, watching the ocean.

At that point, the operatives shuffled seats again. Alex suddenly realized that they'd been taking shifts, and that every three hours they all changed seats. Alex didn't bother wondering why he wasn't moving. Anyway, this time Eagle sat next to him.

Eagle talked a lot.

He started out babbling for forty-five minutes about some friend who had met a movie star on a plane once and they hooked up in the bathroom and when they came out the poperazzi were all over them and then she paid him ten thousand dollars to not go the tabloids but then the tabloids offered him fifty thousand dollars for his story...

He just went _on_ and _on_ and **_on_**.

But, eventually, the story ended, and Eagle found something else to talk about.

He pulled out a catalogue that Smithers had given him, for a knife company. Smithers had kindly circled the knives that he had hid in the gun box for the guys. Eagle went through all five, then asked Alex which knife he thought should go to which person.

Now that was actually fun. At least it was Eagle treating him like a "big kid" without the celebrity sex stories.

In the end, this was what they decided:

Snake would get the Cold Steel ODA CS38DAC, described in the catalogue as _"Black epoxy powder coated high performance Carbon V steel blade with integral guard and handle Overall 11 7/8 in. Blade 7 in."_

Wolf would get the AKC Combat MC3723, described as _"Meyerco military knife model A. 440 stainless blade with a black non-glare finish. Black rubberized handle with black composition guard and pommel. Black molded composition sheath. 13 3/8 overall. 8 1/8 blade"_

Eagle would get the Jungle Fighter CN210517, described as _"Flat ground, textured finish, stainless steel blade. Black hard rubber handle with black finish steel guard. Lanyard hole. Black cordura belt sheath. Overall 13 7/8 in. , blade 8 ¾"_

Fox would get the Rescue Tanto MT-113, described in the catalogue as _"Lightweight, military style tanto knife. Phosphate coated, hollow ground 440 stainless steel blade. Semi-hard, grooved, hard polymer, rubber handle. Double stitched, nylon sheath. Overall 10 1/2 in. Blade 6 in"_

And Cub would get the Bodyguard Special, described as _"Black carbon steel single edge, spear point blade. Features textured Kraton Polymer rubber, non-slip handle. Comes with heavy canvas sheath and leg tie down strap. Round plastic pommel. Overall length 11 in. Blade 6 in. Handle 5 in "_

Of course then Snake leaned across the aisle to start some sort of "my blade is bigger than yours" argument, and Alex pulled out the ipod again.

* * *

It was good to stretch his legs in Miami. Wolf looked around the terminal, trying to find something to do other than sit (again) during their forty-five minute layover. 

He watched Fox and Eagle trying to get some girl's attention, and Alex watching them from the side, his ipod still on. Snake had settle down an opened up a book. Looked like one of his usual murder thrillers.

Wolf sighed and plopped down next to Snake.

The girl Fox and Eagle were flirting with (though without talking, it was very complicated) had long blonde hair, though whether it was natural or died was hard to tell. She was wearing a little red dress with yellow heels. She had started to drift off towards one of those airport bars.

Fox and Eagle glanced at each other, and followed her.

Snake closed his book and turned to Wolf.

"How're you doing?" Snake asked him.

"…Fine. Shouldn't I be?" Wolf asked, innocently.

"Oh, please. I heard your promise to the housekeeper, and don't think for a _second_ that you're going to convince me that your particular word choice was coincidental. You don't fool me, Wolf"

Wolf sighed in defeat. He never could fool Snake, although it would have been nice if he had pretended that Wolf hadn't said those exact words.

It was times like these that he almost regretted telling Snake his story in the first place. .

"Would you believe me if I said it wasn't premeditated?" he asked hopefully.

"Yes, actually. I'd like to think that you aren't stupid enough to choose those words on purpose."

"It's just this mission. Sure, Colombia's a long way from Nicaragua, but it's the same continent. The same language. The same people…"

"Well, if we're lucky, we won't be seeing many people. This being a stealth mission and all." Snake drawled.

"Gee thanks, Snake." Wolf said dryly.

Snake got serious again. "Seriously, though. You gonna be okay?"

Wolf sighed. "Yeah. I've made the promise. Now I just have to make sure I don't make the same mistake.

* * *

A few chairs away, Alex wondered what the heck Wolf and Snake were talking about. He'd have asked, except that they thought his ipod was on. 

Oh well.

Suddenly, Wolf stood up and looked around.

"Where's Fox and Eagle?"

Alex looked over to the bar.

Fox, Eagle, and the girl where gone.


	4. Strategy

Disclaimer: I wonder, if I were to buy Alex Rider, would that include the movie, or does that come seperately? This is implying, for all those who didn't catch on, that I don't already own it.

By the way, for the record, I really like this chapter. The contrast of the comical scene at the airport and the really depressing concersation on Liverpool Street makes me proud.

Plus, for some reason, having someone tell you how it's all going to end up seems to heighten the tension and suspence a ton, don't you agree?

* * *

"Okay, they could't have gone far!" Snake called over to Wolf and Cub. They were pushing their way through the crowd, trying to find Eagle and Fox without getting lost themselves. 

Wolf glanced at his watch. "Well, _great_," he practically growled.

"What?" Alex asked, standing on tiptoes to see over the heads of all the other travelers.

"Our plane takes off in fifteen minutes."

"Oh."

* * *

Meanwhile, back at the ranch (aka Liverpool Street), Alan Blunt was innocently reading a report from Singapore, minding his own business. 

Well, at least, as innocently as he could manage, which still looked pretty suspicious.

And since Blunt's business was other people's business, it wasn't really his own business he was minding either...

The point, is that Blunt was doing what he always does, when Mrs. Jones burst through the door.

Although, she didn't burst through the door as much as she opened them, walked through, and closed them firmly.

I'll stop, I promise.

She strode over to Alan Blunt, who hadn't bothered to look up at her.

She slammed a report down onto his desk, hard enough to make his mug of coffee jump.

Blunt didn't even flinch, but raised an eyebrow slowly, and looked up at his deputy.

"Problem?" he asked, as innocently as his profession allowed.

* * *

"I think I see them!" 

"Really?"

"...No."

"_Damn_."

"Oh wait!"

"You see them?"

"No... no, that's definately not them."

"_Double damn_."

* * *

"_Problem?_" Mrs. Jones cried, leaning on her hads, which were balled up into fists and resting on top of the report. 

"Yes. I was wondering if you had a problem. With the report." Blunt clarified.

"I leave work one hour early. _One hour_. Once, in my entire career. _One hour_," she growled, "and what do you do? You send Alex Rider to a South American warzone!?!?"

"Actually, it's not a warzone. It's classified as a conflict zone. There's a difference." he pointed out cooly.

"Yes! Warzones have rules! They rarely shoot unarmed fifteen year olds! In a conflict zone, you're shot just because they don't want you to feel left out!"

"I'm sensing that you found a flaw with my strategy?"

"_A flaw with your strategy?_ What about the total lack of strategy?" she practically screeched.

"I don't understand."

"Why did Alex have to go? One of the SAS operatives could have just as easily sent us the coordinates. And don't give me any of that bull about using him as a cover. It's actually more suspicious to find four men and a boy hiking in Columbia than just four men!"

Blunt, finally, dropped the "innocent" act, and got down to business.

"I sent Alex, and chose this particular squad, because together they'll create circumstances in which this mission has a greater chance of succeeding."

"What?"

"They'll never make it without being caught."

* * *

By now, they were something like thirty gates away from where they'd last seen Eagle and Fox. And their luggage, come to think of it. 

"Wolf, what should we do?" Snake asked.

"Why don't we split up? Um... Cub, stay with me, we'll keep looking. Snake, you go back to our gate and see if they came back. And make sure nobody stole our stuff. Call me if you find anything."

"Same here." Snake replied, and walked back in opposite direction, pushing through the crowds.

Wolf and Alex continued weaving through the throngs of people, searching for any sign of Eagle, Fox, or the girl they'd followed to the bar.

* * *

"What do you mean? 

"Isn't it obvious? They'll never be able to sneak up on the FARS. Alex has never really seen a jungle before, and a few month of training in jungle 1 can't compete with living their your entire life."

"So, you're saying that you sent one of our best agents, along with four very good SAS operatives into a trap?"

"Technically.

"_Technically?_"

"That's what I said."

* * *

They stopped to regroup when they reached the baggage claim. 

"How much time do we have?" Alex asked the solder.

"According to my watch our plane took off five minutes ago." Wolf replied easily.

"Well you seem awefully calm." Alex noted.

"I checked the departure board two gates back. Our flight's been delayed. We have twenty minutes."

"That's lucky."

* * *

"Alan, will you stop evading my questions and just tell me what you know I want to know!" Mrs. Jones exclaimed, fed up with her boss. 

Blunt sighed.

"Very well. They'll be detected, yes, but they'll have time to put up a fight. What I'm banking on is that, due to Alex's age, his past experiences with the unit, and the past experiences of the unit itself, will create a possibility that will allow the mission to survive, even if the operatives don't."

"_Will you just spit it out and stop trying to sound smart?_" Mrs. Jones snapped, quite uncharacteristically.

* * *

They just stood at the baggage claim, totally lost. 

"Should we just go back?" Alex asked tentativelly.

Before Wolf could reply, some woman from Customer Service bounced up, smiling cheerfully.

"You folks look a little confused. Can I help?"

"Um, no-uh, we're just. We lost our friends" Wolf stammered out, flushing a bit out of embarrassment.

"Oh, they couldn't have gone far, don't worry! When was the last time you tried calling them?"

Wolf just glanced at Alex in chagrin. The boy was covering his face with his hands in total shame.

The smile seemed to actually slide off the woman's face. "You didn't try calling them? What century did you fly in from?"

* * *

"In plain terms," Alan shot Mrs. Jones a look, "since Alex is young, and since he's trained and worked with K unit before, and since the unit leader's been in a situation somewhat like this before, which - according to his psych file - left a pretty profound impact, I'm hoping that when things get really bad, the SAS operatives will tell Alex to run for it." 

Mrs. Jones seemed to be genuinely shocked. "Alex wouldnt' leave them there, you know that!"

"Yes, I do. His guilt wouldn't let him run away, and neither would his sense of duty. He'll continue on towards the FARS headquarters and transmit the coordinates, while his unit is distracting the guerillas."

"That's... Alan, do you realize? You're going to _destroy_ him. Even if he survives, imagine the emotional scarring, if nothing else."

"I know. But there are 56 innocent people being threatened with much more than emotional scarring as we speak."

* * *

Twenty minutes later, all five operatives sat on a plane headed for Bogota. 

Since Wolf was the only one Alex hadn't sat next to on the way to Miami, he wasn't surprised when the soldier plopped down next to him this time.

They sat in companionable silence for a few moments, until Wolf suddenly turned to Alex.

"I can't believe you didn't think of calling them!"

"You didn't either!" Alex defended himself.

"Yeah, but you're fifteen! The answer to every teenager's problem is supposed to come from their cell phone!"

"Well, sorry," Alex said, smiling ruefully. "I'm not used to having a cell phone on a mission. It's not like I could call the big scary bad guy I'm tailing and say 'Hey, do you mind slowing down a bit, I got a late start. Or better yet, just give me a ring when you're ready to turn yourself in!'"

"Point taken"

"Thank you."

After a few more minutes of silence, during which Wolf watched Alex fidget almost constantly, he asked, "Nervous?"

The boy hesitated. "A little" he finally admitted.

"Don't be. It's gonna be fine"

"How do you know?" he demanded.

Alex saw, just in time, a far off look in the soldier's eyes before Wolf glanced, almost involuntarily, back two rows at Snake.

"_Because I said so_," Wolf said, then looked away.


	5. Arriving

Disclaimer: Anthony Horowitz owns Alex Rider, and do you think his chosen sn would be "PrattlingPrincess"? Do you think it would be any type of princess?

Neither did I.

* * *

The plane landed in Bogota at about three in the afternoon. It was cloudy, and so humid it felt as if they'd stepped out into a fish tank. But, surprisingly, it was cool enough that Alex was glad he had his jacket. 

The city, to put it plainly, was unique. During the short taxi drive to the hotel, Alex saw mimes in the crosswalks and farmers leading oxen past the Congress building. The skyline couldn't compare to London's (of course), but Alex had a feeling that - like all cities - it would be more beautiful after dark.

Their hotel was in the Puente Aranda district, a packed urban neighborhood. They'd rented two hotel rooms, each with two beds and a couch. Alex absently wondered which government was paying for it: the British government or the Colombian government. He wished he knew. It would significantly impact what he ordered from room service.

After deciding that it wasn't safe to leave Eagle and Fox alone, Wolf and Snake decided not to let them room together. Snake and Fox took one room, while Wolf, Eagle, and Alex took the other. Since they were staying only one night, they were going to flip a coin to decide who would have to sleep on the couch.

Then Eagle made some comment about maybe calling that "chick" from the airport later.

Wolf told him he was sleeping on the couch.

And that was that.

* * *

Due to jetlag, they only got a couple hours of sleep. 

Before leaving, they went over their cover story one more time. The men were simply four friends on vacation, and Cub was the son of one of their girlfriends. Snake volunteered for the job, and rather successfully repeated his story of the two year girlfriend who wanted her teenage son to bond with his potential stepfather.

In order to attract as little attention as possible, they decided to ditch the codenames when in the company of locals. Last names were hardly needed, since it would be odd to refer to a friend by their full name.

Cub became Alex.

Fox became Todd.

Eagle became Neil.

Snake became Gavin.

Wolf became Diego.

As such, they prepared for the two day bus trip to the town of Santa Marta, which would be followed by the three day jungle hike to La Ciudad Perdita.

Snake - or Gavin - talked to Alex as they waited for Wolf (Diego) and Fox (Todd) to check them out of the hotel, and for Eagle (Neil) to finish apologizing to a rather traumatized maid (Snake left him alone for five minutes and he managed to challenge the Argentinian traveler in the room next to them to a room-service-trolley-cart race down the hall, which ended in tears).

"The way I see it," Snake said, "this is a lot like SAS Selection. You don't want to stick out. Not first in line, not last in line. Always polite but not memorable, because as soon as you're noticed all eyes are on you. You want to be Mr. Grey Man. (1)"

* * *

(1)This is a slightly plagiarised quote I got off a website about the SAS, just to warn you. 

Oh, and sorry it's short, but there's more coming soon, and the action's about to begin!!!

Reviews are always welcome!!!!!


	6. Lunch

**I'd like to take this opportunity to sincerely thank all those who offered condolences after my last update. It really meant a lot to log on and find all those messages of support and comfort. Therefor, this chapter is dedicated to Abby, and: Fighter Pilot, Pocket Quasar, Rose Philosopher, ihearttwojacks, PsychoWing, and one-who-survived-the-darkness. Thanks so much you guys!**

**_Disclaimer:_ I think by now we have all accepted the fact that no matter how much we may hope, wish, pray, beg, demand, blackmail, scheme, or charm, none of us is ever going to own Alex Rider, or K Unit. Which is really a bummer, let me tell you. Oh, and I talked with the FARC, and they quite forcefully informed me that they are not for sale... my mom was kinda pissed about the whole blowing-up-the-car message, though. Note to self: always assume that terrorist guerillas are not for sale. It's not worth double checking. Anyway...**

* * *

Finally, their bus arrived, they had their tickets, and Eagle had apologized to everyone he'd managed to traumatize during his short stay in Bogota. The five team members got onto the bus, and were greeted by a quiet driver, who introduced himself as "Jose"

Since Jose didn't talk much (hence the adjective "quiet"), K unit turned to the other passengers on the bus for entertainment.

There were several other English speaking tourists, who Eagle and Fox immediately started chatting with, being the only members of the unit who didn't speak spanish.

Wolf blended like a local, and so he soon found himself wrapped up in a confortable conversation with a widow from Cordoba who was traveling with her two daughters to visit her brother in law.

Alex could speak Spanish as well as he spoke English, but it wasn't expected due to his appearance. Therefor the cute teenage girl sitting in front of hin wasted five minutes answering his questions in mono-syllabic words before he finally admitted he was fluent. After that it was usual teenage chatter, enhanced by their difference in cultures.

Snake at first was content to listen to little old Cub talking to a perfectly normal cute girl about international politics. Finally, though, he recognized the book the man sitting across from him was reading, and was soon talking to him about the authors latest book. Snake's spanish was decent, from growing up with Wolf, but not perfect. But with his broken spanish combined with the man's passable english, they managed.

They stopped for lunch in a little village that depended on that bus bringing tourists to their village for lunch. Kinda sad when you think about it. Of course, this meant that their restaurant were very, very good. K unit decided to share a table with the tourists Eagle and Fox had been talking to.

Their names were Christian and Eva Hopkins, from Canada. This was their honeymoon.

The group of six enjoyed a nice conversation, swapping background stories, which K unit handled with practiced perfection, until the waiter arrived with the menus. Seeing that guests celebrating their birthdays recieved a free jar of _arequipe_, or _dulce de leche_, Eagle automatically told the waiter that it was Alex's birthday.

Alex was too shocked to stop him in time.

Moving on, the group ordered enthusiastically. Christian and Eva opted to split a simple loaf of _Pandeyuca_, a baked cheese bread made with yucca flower. Wolf casually ordered _la ternera_ (veal) as if it was the most natural thing in the world. Snake and Alex (the "step-son and step-father") split a _Lechona_, pork stuffed with rice, corn, peas, and spices. Fox hesitantly ordered the _Aborajjado_, plantains stuffed with cheese, and Eagle confidently ordered the _Chunchullo_, much to the disgust of the others. _Chunchullo_ was, or course, stuffed and fried poultry intestines.

The conversation during the meal was casual and relaxed. Eagle, having earlier boasted to the Canadian couple that he was an experienced world traveler, spent most of the time telling them exciting stories from his trips to the Sahara, and the jungles of Belize, and scuba diving off the coast of Russia.

Of course, the stories were total bogus. They sounded like cheezy Indiana Jones spinn-offs. But the rest of K unit knew that these stories were based of Eagle's real exploits during SAS training. So, in reality, the stories were simultaneously exaggerated and watered-down versions of the truth.

Of course, Eagle's impulsive birthday announcement couldn't go ignored. After everyone was done with their dinner, four waiters came out of the kitchen carrying a jar of _arequipe_, decorated with a simple red ribbon. As soon as the waiters reached their table, they started singing, much to Alex's mortification.

The song _Las Mañanitas_ was a traditional Mexican birthday song, and once they'd gotten over the initial shock, Wolf and a few other diners in the restaurant joined in:

_Estas son las mañanitas que cantaba el rey David_

_Hoy por ser día de tu santo te las cantamos aquí._

_Despierta mi bien despierta_

_Mira que ya amaneció_

_Ya los pajaritos cantan_

_La luna ya se metió._

_¡Qué linda está la mañana en que vengo a saludarte_

_Venimos todos con gusto y placer a felicitarte!_

_Ya viene amaneciendo ya la luz del dia nos dio._

_Levantarte de la mañana, mira que ya amaneció._

The translation, if you want it:

_This is the morning song that King David sang_

_Because today is your saint's day we're singing it for you_

_Wake up, my dear, wake up, look it is already dawn_

_The birds are already singing and the moon has set_

_How lovely is the morning in which I come to greet you_

_We all came with joy and pleasure to congratulate you_

_The morning is coming now, the sun is giving us its light_

_Get up in the morning, look it is already dawn._

Well, of course, by this time everyone but Alex was smiling and cheering, and Eagle was opening the jar to try the _arequipe_. The poor boy, despite it not even being his birthday, was still shocked into silence. Nobody seemed to notice except Wolf, and even he didn't understand it.

Only Alex understood what had just happened.

It was the first time anyone had sang happy birthday to him.

* * *

**Okay, there you go. That's gonna have to last you until I get back (21 or 23, I'm not quite sure which). Although, here's a little teaser to keep you interested:**

**"Next Time, On Viva El Chacorro!"**

**1) The group arrives in Santa Marta just in time for the annual Festival of the Sea.**

**2) They get separated... purposefully and by accident!**

**3) Y'all get to see how well I write fight scenes!**

**4) We get a little glimpse of how everybody back in London's doing!!!**

**Also, just to help me out, here's a few questions I'd really appreciate you answering in your reviews - _BECAUSE EVERYBODY IS GOING TO REVIEW, RIGHT?!?!_**

**1) Do you want a funnier, stupider Eagle, or a smarter, scarier one?**

**2) Should the soldiers treat Alex more like a kid, or an equal?**

**3) Should I let somebody get captured, or should I try to break Alex's horrible captivity record?**

**4) For the sequal (yeah, can you believe it, I'm already working on a sequal) should I work on finding some girls for our soldiers, or leave 'em single?**

**Please, PLEASE review, and I'll see you in a few weeks!**


	7. Losing

Hi everybody!!! Did you miss me? Lord knows I missed you. So, here's my nice long update. In terms of the main plot, not a whole lot happens, but in terms of the little side plots, this is pretty major, so pay attention. Oh, and thanks so much for all the help you guys gave me in your reviews by answering my questions - I really use that stuff, you know?

So, did everybody read Harry Potter? Took me 13 hours and 17 minutes. I finished at 6:43 a.m. after having woken up at 4:30 the morning before. For all those paying attention, that's 26 hours and 13 minutes without sleep! Eight spent on a train, thirteen spent reading... I slept 'till 3:30 this afternoon, my mom thought I'd died or something.

Anywho, here we go-

**Disclaimer:** I tried to send a letter to Anthony Horowitz offering to buy Alex & Co., but my letter got lost among the millions of similar requests being sent to J.K. Rowling. So, for the time being, I still don't own any of it. And, apparently you can't actually buy countries... so Colombia isn't mine either.

* * *

The bus arrived in Santa Marta at sundown. By some odd twist of fate, it just happened to be the day of the town's annual_ Las Fiestas del Mar_ (The Festival of the Sea). As one of the locals on the bus explained to the "tourists" they'd missed the jetski shows and beauty contests during the daylight hours. But, now that it was dark, the parades and he parties would begin.

The contrast of the reactions of the five British tourists was almost comical. Alex looked curious, as any teenager would at the idea of a city-wide party. Wolf looked totally disinterested, as if this happened every day. Snake looked slightly apprehensive, as the only one in the group who regularly thought with caution. Eagle and Fox just looked thrilled beyond belief.

As they departed the bus and said farewell to their fellow passengers, the group of five began wandering the streets a little aimlessly, just taking in the celebration around them.

The first things Alex noticed, before anything else, were the banners. There must have been thousands hung throughout the town, judging by how many Alex had seen so far. Hung from string hanging across the streets, across alleys, hanging out of windows, draped over cars, they were everywhere. And, despite coming in countless colors (sea green, light orange, turquois, silver, etc), materials (plastic, paper, tin, tarp, etc), and sizes (from some bigger than cars to small playing-card sized ones being handed out to passer-byes), Alex noticed that they all read the same thing:

_"Santa Marta, la magia de tenerlo todo."_ ("Santa Marta, the magic of having it all").

After he took in the signs, the next thing Alex noticed were the lights. Like the signs, they were everywere, and seemed to have no set order to them. Most were strings of outdoor Christmas lights, draped across gates and wrapped around trash cans, but there were small sidewalk bonfires and movie-set lights, and colored lanterns as well. The millions of tiny lights all over the streets created the odd effect of managing to light everyting up while still keeping the scene dim and flickering at the edges, creating an almost mythical atmosphere.

Next Alex noticed the noise, and as soon as he did, he wondered how he was only just noticing it now. There was noise everywhere. Even though they had walked several blocks now, the noise never changed. It was almost as if there was a large speaker playing a soundtrack for the whole city to hear. Everywhere there was talking and shouting and laughing. The unmistakable sound of hundreds of bodies rustling next to eachother as they passed eachother on the street. The sound of firecrackers going off every few minutes, which was accompanied by several oohs and ahs, and delighted cries from any children lucky enough to witness it.

There was the sound of venders on both sides of the street, calling out to those walking past, encouraging them to but whatever food, clothes, jewelry, pottery, or any other trinkets they happened to be selling. Where there was food being sold, there was the sound of grilling meat, which, of course, brought the smell of grilling meat.

And there was music. Despite Alex's earlier thought that the sound didn't change from street to street, he now realized that the music did. Depending on which small group of musicians there, or which radio had the loudest speakers, the music changed periodically, as the group moved through the fiesta.

They stopped to watch a parade go by. It was incredible. There was more music, some played by bands, dressed identically down to the shoe laces. Some came out of speakers on floats. There were dancers, some traditional, some... not so traditional. There were male dancers and female dancers. Their constumes ranged from simple and single colored to more complicated and vain than a peacock. There were important-looking people in shiny expensive cars, some old and some new. And the floats themselves were extraordinary. They were extravagant to the point of gaudiness, and clearly reflected hours and hours or hard work. Of course, keeping to the title (Las Fiestas del Mar) everything had an underwater theme. Paper mache seaweed, baloons meant to look like bubbles, girls dressed as mermaids sitting on top of trash can lids that had been painstakingly converted into giant oysters...

Alex concluded that this was by far the most amazing thing he'd ever seen.

* * *

After the parade passed and people started walking in the street again, Fox and Eagle turned to the others.

"We're hungry," Eagle stated, as if this would assure them food.

"So?" Wolf asked.

"Ah, well... We were gonna go eat, you know..."

Wolf's stern look demanded more of an answer than that.

"And, um... the guy on the bus said the night clubs here are really good, so we figured...?" Fox trailed off hopefully.

"Fine. Meet us back here in two hours," Snake said. After checking for landmarks and such so that they could find "here", Eagle and Fox departed looking incredble pleased with themselves.

That left Wolf, Snake, and Cub to wander through the streets, stopping occassionally to watch a firecracker or listen to a song.

Wolf found himself glancing at Cub every few minutes. The boy had the most amusing look of undisguised wonder on his face, and if Wolf hadn't known better (and I mean _really_ known) then he would have though Cub to be like all the other countless children walking around with that same look on their face, as if afraid to blink and miss something...

For Wolf, this fiesta was no big deal. He'd seen dozens like it at home, hadn't he? At this though, Wolf shook his head. He wasn't sure whether he was irritated or amused that after all these years he still didn't think of England as his home, despite having lived there for all but eight years of his life. Apparently some part of him refused to leave Nicaragua, for whatever reason.

And, of course, like he'd always felt at the festivals at home, the packed, bustling, shouting crowds made his chest tight, and the smell of over-cooked and burnt food made him want to gag. This all resulted in a general shortness of breath and unpleasant feeling.

They paused at a corner to let a small parade go past. Once again Wolf glanced at Cub, finding that he couldn't get enough of seeing that look on the boy's usually all-too-serious face. For some reason he just couldn't help looking over to see it again and again, and when he did he forgot the crowds and the smell and thoughts of home.

As they crossed the street, Snake started talking to him about how they managed to have so many parades going without ever colliding, and so it was longer than usual before Wolf got the chance to glance down at Cub again.

When he did, he suddenly found he couldn't breathe at all - and he was pretty sure his heart had stopped too - and it had nothing to do with the crowds or the smell.

Cub wasn't there.

He was nowhere to be seen.

* * *

"Hello?"

"Hey, Jack, it's me, Tom. Again."

"Oh, hi, Tom."

A pause.

"Um, so, no Alex yet?"

"No, not yet."

""I just figured I'd call and check, you know, in case he was back and just didn't go to school or something..."

"Right."

A sigh.

""So, uh, could you tell Aled, I mean, when he gets back of course, could you tell him to call me. We could go see that movie we missed. You know, if it's still playing..."

"Okay, Tom, I'll tell him."

"Thanks. So, I guess I'll see you later..."

"Sure."

"Goodbye."

"Bye, Tom."

Jack hung up the phone and felt the sudden desire to go clean something. In the days that Alex had been gone, Jack felt as if she could have scrubbed the entirety of Buckingham Palace twice over. Anything to make her forget.

If only for a little while.

* * *

When they'd stopped at the corner to wait for a parade to pass, Cub was trying to take in all the different shades of blue somebody'd managed to use when painting one of the floats, when a very pretty girl wearing a bright magenta hat standing next to him said, in a heavily accented voice "It's beautiful, yes?"

Knowing that she'd spoken English under the assumption that Alex (like many foreign tourists) didn't speak Spanish, Alex answered her in her own language - without an accent, much to her pleasure.

"I can't believe all the colors."

She smiled. "I kow, it's always my favorite part."

"I'm Alex."

"Hello, Alex. I'm Pia," the girl replied, holding out her hand.

The two continued talking, and Alex realized that (although it'd only been a few days) he'd really missed talking to someone his own age. Usually while on a mission he was so busy and stressed that he didn't notice this, but this mission was starting out so slow, that Alex was frankly a little, well, _bored_.

Of course, the reasonable side of his brain acknowledged that this was much better than the alternative. Bored is always preferable to dead.

But still, he enjoyed talking to Pia.

After about five minutes, Alex realized that Wolf and Snake were probably really bored now, and a little irritated, so he turned to apologize, and froze.

They were gone.

Assuming that they hadn't noticed he'd stayed behind was preferable to the thought of them having abandoned him on purpose, so Alex thought it prudent to stay put and wait for them to come back. Of course, this was convenient, as it meant he got to continue talking to Pia.

A few minutes later three very large boys probably a year or two older than Alex walked up. Pia introduced them as Manuel, Arturo, and Roberto, friends of hers from the neighborhood.

Of course, judging by Manuel's proximity to Pia, and the undisguisable hostility in the look he gave Alex, "friends from the nieghborhood" was not the title he would have chosen.

"Manuel, Arturo, Roberto, this is Alex, another friend of mine." Alex look of startled pleasure at being called a friend by somebody he'd only just met clashed with Manuel's expression of jealousy in an ugly way under the dim lights, and the conversation after that was stabbed with many left-handed comments from Manuel and awkward silences.

Having not seen Wolf or Snake yet, Alex anxiously glanced at his watch. They were supposed to meet Eagle and Fox in fifteen minutes. Making a quick decision, Alex said goodbye to the four: quick and polite with Manuel and his sidekicks, and genuinely regretful with Pia. He then turned the corner and started walking towards the meeting spot.

Of course, in the crowds, he could be exused for not noticing the three large boys following him.

Alex was about a half a block away from the meeting place when he was suddenly pulled into a stereotypically dark and empty alley. He was swung around and pushed against the wall before he'd registered anything. Alex blinked and found himself looking intot he face of Manuel; Arturo and Roberto were standing just behind him.

"_So,_ you think you come all the way from London and talk to _my_ girl, huh?" Manuel snarled.

Alex nearly rolled his eyes. He suddenly realized why he'd associated missing other people his age with his own boredom. Whenever there were two or more teenagers together, things neve got boring.

Ah well, it was still better than men with machine guns.

* * *

At the knock on his office door, Alan Blunt calmly called, "Enter."

Mrs. Jones did so, not bothering to close the door behind her. For a company who's entire business was secrets, the employees at MI6 worked daily in an atmposhere of combined paranoia and naivety that was simply impossible to describe to an outsider.

"News from Ngyuen?" he asked, seeming to the casual observer to be more Head of MI6 than human. Perhaps it was impossible to be both...

"Yes, and it's not good. He's sure his cover's been blown, Alan, we'll have to-"

At that moment, Blunt's secretary, Miss Watson, walked in. An office door left open was a silent message to others that it was safe to interrupt. Furthermore, due to Mrs. Jones's high rank, it was no wonder that the secretary didn't wait for a more private time to deliver her boss's mail.

"That package you were expecting from Algeria, a letter from Kabul, and the first payment from Colombia, sir." Miss Watson listed dutifully, depositing the mail on Alan Blunt's desk.

"Thank you, Miss Watson," Blunt murmered, and more a minute he seemed almost aprehensive. The secretary left the office with a cheery smile, totally oblivious. It was safer to remain so.

"A payment from-?" Mrs. Jones asked sharply. "But the only going on in _Colombia_ is-"

Blunt didn't bother to say anything.

"Why didn't you tell me about any payments?"

"I assumed you'd be better off never knowing." Blunt replied, totally emotionless.

Mrs. Jones froze. Then she asked, almost hesitantly, "Alan, this isn't- I mean, you haven't... set them up, have you?"

Alan Blunt's cold eyes locked on hers, and he paused, as if judging her. Finally, he blinked, and said, quite calmly:

"I don't know."

Mrs. Jones's eyes narrowed, then widened, then returned to normal. She stuffed a peppermint into her mouth, but it seemed her mind wasn't even aware of the act. She sat down, uninvited, placed her hands calmly on her lap, and said, "_Explain. Everything_."

"Very well. A few days ago, before I recruiting Rider and the SAS, I was contacted by-"

Miss Watson entered the office carrying paperwork that Blunt signed silently.

When the secretary left, Mrs. Jones got up after her and locked the door before sitting down again.

"As you were saying," she prompted her boss.

"Of course. As I was saying..."

* * *

"Okay, when was the last time we saw him?" Snake asked. Wolf couldn't seem to understand how Snake could be so _calm_ about this.

"I dunno, before we started talking about parade routes?" he growled, scanning the crowds almost feverishly.

"Relax, Diego, it's not as if he's six. We'll find him." Snake said reassuringly.

"When did we start talking about parade routes?" Wolf demanded, as if he hadn't heard his friend's last remark.

"When we saw the parade," Snake replied, still calm, but scanning the crowds anyway."

"_Snake_," Wolf growled deeper.

"Back at that corner about two blocks down."

They headed in that direction, Wolf nearly bowling people over in his distraction, leaving Snake to apologize again and again, following in his wake.

"He's not here. He's not here. He's not here." Wolf kept repeating when they reached the corner.

Snake checked his watch. "It's just about time to meet the others, maybe he went back there to wait for us?" Snake suggested.

Without replying, Wolf lunged immediately in that direction, leaging Snake to apologize to the pretty girl wearing a bright magenta hat that he'd knocked over.

Wolf was muttering to himself as he practically ran down the street, compulsively scanning the crowds and looking into windows and alleys as he passed. The only bits Snake heard were "..._wasn't watching_... ..._five minutes_... ..._already gone_... ..._not again_..."

Wolf jerked to a halt so suddenly that even with his military-trained reactions Snake still walked into him.

"What-?" he began, but Wolf ducked into the alley next to them, shouting _"ALEX!"_

Snake honestly wasn't sure whether Wolf was happy to see Cub, angry at losing him, scared at having almost lost him, or confused as to what he was doing in a random alley with three uconcious boys laying at his feet. Snake suspected a mixture of the four.

"What-? Where-?" Wolf seemed unable to get his questions out. As he usually did when real life got to be too complicated, Wolf reverted to the simplicity of military dicipline. "Report!" he finally demanded.

Even though Cub had only had two weeks training in the SAS, he responded as quickly and as naturally as somebody who'd spent years there. Subconciously or not the boy straightened to attention before explained what had happened.

By the end, Wolf looked pretty much livid, though at who it was impossible to tell. Playing it safe, both Snake and Cub remained quiet and waited for their teammate to get over it on his own.

And he would have, except that at that moment Eagle and Fox appeared in the alley, looking slightly confused at the location of their teammates, but over all rather cheerful, which seemed to irritate Wolf even more.

"Hey, sorry we're late. We ended up in this little night club, and you wouldn't _believe_ what these girls were doing Wolf, they- Hey, what're you lookin' at me like that for? I was just minding my own business, getting a drink; wasn't _my_ fault there were two really freaky chicks right next to me..." Eagle trailed off, looking confused at Wolf's mood.

Forgunatelly for Eagle, Snake responded to that before Wolf could.

"_'Freaky chicks'_? God, Neil, you're sounding more like Todd every day" he replied, jerking his head towards Fox, who was attempting to look innocent.

"Fine with me," Eagle said, in a decidedly glum manner. "That boy is made of _gold_, I swear. He had three senoritas dancing with him in two minutes flat. I don't understand it"

"Yeah, well, while you were off drinking Tequila, Alex here got mugged," Wolf grated, having finally composed himself sufficiently to attempt human speech.

Alex protested. "I _beg_ your pardon, but I did _not _get mugged!" He turned to a confused Eagle and Fox. "I was the victim of an _attempted_ mugging."

"An attempted mugging?" Fox asked blankly.

"Yes."

"Oh. Well, that doesn't sound to serious, Diego," Eagle said bracingly, slapping Wolf on the back.

Let me tell you, if looks could kill...

Watching Wolf warily, Eagle removed his arm and asked, "How many were there, Cub?"

Snake smacked him for using the wrong name.

"Three."

"By yourself?"

"Yeah."

Eagle sighed. "Too bad. You should have saved one for Diego. He looks like he could use a good fight."

"Oh, shut up," Wolf grumbled.

* * *

So, there you have it. You might have noticed that I whimped out on the fight scene. Frankly, this chapter is so frickin long that I didn't bother forcing myself to come up with a decent fight, you know?

I also realized how similar this is to the chapter where Fox and Eagle get lost in the airport. But, while that escapade was really only there for humor and Wolf-Cub bonding, this one actually served a constructive purpose to the plot.

Next chapter they start hiking, and so here are the questions I'd like y'all to answer in your **LONG AND DETAILED** reviews - which of course I always love and appreciate and depend on:

_**1)** The hike is three days. Should I each day specifically, or just sort of brush over them as one really long hike? Any suggestions are welcome._

_**2)** Though I haven't decided whether or not to have anybody captured at all, if somebody is captured, who should it be. A name is necessary for this one (as in, 'I dunno, somebody' is not what I'm looking for. Specifics are what I'm looking for)._

_**3)** For the sequal, who do you think would make a better character to toss into the mix: A six year old French orphan named Adeline, a teenage runaway from Southern California named Josh, or the teenage son of the Afghan ambassador named Amir._

Believe it or not these questions are all essential to my plot, so please answer them!!!

By the way, I'll be updating Permanent Assignment tomorrow, in case you're wondering. I only had time to do one today, and I'd already written half of this chapter, so...

'Night y'all.


	8. Teaser

Hello, everybody.

I know, there is no excuse for having gone this long without updating.

I am sooooo sorry!

To make matters worse, this isn't even a real update. I have a really irritatingly short teaser that ends in an insufferable cliffhanger to tide you over, and I have the rest of the chapter planned out, but I need help! This chapter ( and the next few after this one ) center around a group of Americans in their hiking group. They're a little younger than K Unit, and they're supposed to represent the general Ugly American and such. You know, tactless, rude, arrogant, stupid, etc.

The problem is, I've never been abroad (I'm California born and raised), so I don't know what they're supposed to be like. Any of you guys who aren't from the US, _PLEASE HELP ME!!!_ Describe the most annoying American you've ever met, or ever heard of, so I know what to base my characters on!!!

The teaser picks up at the very end of the chapter, so you're not really supposed to understand what's going on between Alex and Wolf. Oh, and you haven't met Dristan yet, but just so you aren't totally confused, he's another British tourist in the hiking group. Friendly guy. Good with kids.

So, to wrap it up, this is a plea for help creating four incredibly stereotypical Americans (two guys, two girls). Calling all non-Americans!!!

Oh, and enjoy the teaser:

* * *

Well, after Wolf brought _that_ up, Alex had no problem picking up the pace, hoping to reach the next checkpoint before Snake cought on to the conversation and the two ganged up on him. Thankfully, he was successful, and the days hike ended in half an hour. Alex offered to help Dristan set up his tent, his pride only feeling a little bent after such a pathetic attempt to avoid the soldiers.

The checkpoint was beautiful. There was no other way to describe it. It was a wide, sunny clearing covered in bright green grass, on the edge of a twenty foot cliff that ended in a deep pool. There was a path along the cliff that, according to one of the guides, lead to the waterfall that fed the pool, and the perfect spot to dive from.

That sounded promising, especially considering the effect that the six hour long hike (along with the 72 humidity) had on one's body. Eagle came and found Alex after Dristan was all set up. Apparently obliviousl to any tension between Alex and Wolf, Eagle cheerfully invited the two to come and "jump off the big cliff" along with the rest of the group.

How much could Wolf interrogate Alex while falling forty feet, right?

By the time Eagle, Dristan, and Alex reached the diving point, a line had formed, made up of the other tourists. Luckily (note the sarcasm) the rest of K Unit was in the back of the line. Alex let Eagle and Dristan go ahead of him, in order to put as much space as possible between him and you-know-who (HP induced giggle). Michael and his friends noisily lined up behind Alex.

When it was Alex's turn, he stood at the edge for a few moments, waiting for Dristan to drift far enough away so as to avoid landing on top of him. Michael was bouncing up and down behind him, clearly impatient for his turn. Alex took a deep breath, looking over the jungle, and then leaned forward and jumped.

The water was freezing, which felt great.

And then suddenly Alex felt as if his head and shoulders had been split open and crushed simultaneously, and he was surrounded by water, although he wasn't sure which way was up... or out? His ears were ringing, and he realized with a panic that he couldn't breathe.

Michael had landed on him.

Stupid American.

And then Alex blacked out.

* * *

Once again, so sorry to do that to you.

Oh, and if it helps, the two guys are intended to butt heads with our guys more than once, and the girls are just supposed to make things messier (I'm thinking something along the lines of reasonable but totally unfounded claims made by someone against someone else that results in a few tense collisions between the groups). All help will be sooo appreciated I'll... I'll name someone after you! Yeah, if you help me, and give me a name (and who you want to bear it) I'll totally name someone after you! Villians! Victims! Possible future girlfiends! Possible future boyfriends (?)! Anyone!

Please and thankyou!


End file.
